A car's pulled over on the road
And hidden by the door,
A child lets out an urgent stream
Within the traffic's roar.
The parent gets him back inside,
Their motions chop-chop-chop,
The passersby relieved to have
Avoided such a stop.
We've done this for our grandson
When there's been a pressing need
Although, of course, anxiety
Is surely guaranteed.
But when his dad is with us
We must detour off the road
In search of a facility
Containing a commode.
I'm sure his way is safer
Though with age, I've come to know
That, especially with children,
When you've gotta go - you go!
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